Abduction

CHAPTER TWELVE

The new day arrived gradually just as it would on the earth’s surface. The light slowly increased in intensity, causing the darkened, vaulted ceiling to lose its stars. Its color went in stages from deep indigo to a rosy pink and finally to a pure sky blue. Saranta began to stir.

Suzanne was the first of the earth surface visitors to awaken with the arrival of the artificial dawn. As she scanned her room, taking in the white marble, the mirrors, and the pool, she realized with a start that the surreal Interterran experience had not been a dream.

Slowly she turned her head to the side and gazed at Garona’s sleeping form. He was on his side, facing her. She was amazed at herself for having allowed the man to stay the night. This was not her norm. The only way she’d shown some restraint had been by staunchly refusing to remove her silken tunic and shorts. She had spent the night with her clothes on, such as they were.

Suzanne wasn’t sure she could blame her decision to allow him to stay on the small amount of crystal she’d drunk or whether it was simply Garona’s handsome looks and winning flattery. As much as she hated to admit it, when it came to men, physical attractiveness was important to her. In fact, it had been part of the reason she’d remained mired in a volatile relationship with an actor back in L.A. long after it had ceased to be healthy.

As if sensing her gaze, Garona opened his dark, liquid eyes and smiled dreamily. It was difficult for Suzanne to feel much regret.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Suzanne managed. He was as handsome in the first light of day as he’d been the night before.

“Please, don’t be sorry,” Garona said. “I appreciate being awakened to see that I am still with you.”

“How is it you always say the right thing?” Suzanne said. She was being sincere, not sarcastic.

“I say what I would like to be told,” Garona said.

Suzanne nodded. It was a sensible variation of the Golden Rule.

Garona rolled toward her and tried to envelop Suzanne in an embrace. Suzanne ducked under his arm and slid off the bed.

“Please, Garona,” Suzanne said. “Let’s not replay last night. Not now.”

Garona flopped back onto the bed and stared up at Suzanne.

“I don’t understand your reluctance,” he said. “Could it be that you don’t care for me?”

Suzanne groaned audibly. “Oh, Garona, for all your sophistication and sensitivity, I can’t imagine why this is so hard for you to grasp. As I told you last night, it takes me a little time to get to know someone.”

“What do you need to know?” Garona questioned. “You can ask me any personal question you like.”

“Look,” Suzanne said. “I certainly care for you. Just letting you stay here is a testament to that. It’s not usual for me when I’ve known someone for such a short time. But I did let you stay, and I’m glad I did. But you can’t expect too much from me. Think of everything I’m trying to take in.”

“But it’s unnatural,” Garona said. “Your emotions should not be so contingent.”

“I disagree!” Suzanne remarked. “It’s called self-protection. I can’t go around allowing spur-of-the-moment desires to dictate my behavior. And it should be the same for you. After all, you don’t know anything about me. Maybe I have a husband or a lover.”

“I assume you do,” Garona said. “In fact, I would be surprised if you didn’t. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“That’s nice.” Suzanne put her hands defiantly on her hips. “It doesn’t matter to you, but what about me?” Suzanne stopped herself. She reached up and rubbed her sleep-filled eyes. She was getting herself all worked up, and she’d only been awake for a few minutes.

“Let’s not discuss any of this right now,” Suzanne said. “This day is going to be challenging enough. Arak has promised to answer our questions, and believe me, I have a lot.” She walked over to one of the many mirrors and cautiously moved into the line of sight of her image. She grimaced at the reflection. Her mind might have been in a turmoil, but there was one thing she knew for certain: she did not look her best in inch-long hair.

Putting his legs over the edge of the bed, Garona sat up and stretched. “You second-generation humans are so serious.”

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘second generation’,” Suzanne said. “But I think I have reason to be serious. After all, I didn’t come here on my own accord. As Donald said, we’ve been abducted. And I don’t have to remind you that means being carried off by force.”

As he had promised, Arak showed up just after the group had eaten breakfast and asked if everyone was ready for the didactic session. Perry and Suzanne were demonstrably eager, Donald less so, and Richard and Michael completely uninterested. In fact, they acted tense and subdued, hardly their normal brazen selves. Perry assumed they were suffering from hangovers and suggested as much to Suzanne.

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Suzanne responded. “As drunk as they were it stands to reason. How do you feel?”

“Great,” Perry said. “All things considered. It was an interesting evening. How about your friend, Garona. Did he stay long?”

“For a while,” Suzanne said evasively. “How about Luna?”

“The same,” Perry said. Neither one looked the other in the eye.

As soon as the group was ready, Arak led them across the lawn toward a hemispherical structure similar to the pavilion although on a much smaller scale. Perry and Suzanne kept up with Arak. Donald lagged a few steps behind and Richard and Michael even more so.

“I still think you should tell Donald,” Michael insisted in a whisper. “He might have an idea about what to do.”

“What the hell is that bastard going to do?” Richard responded. “The kid’s dead. Fuller’s not going to bring him back to life.”

“Maybe he’ll have a better idea where to put the body,” Michael said. “I’m worried about the kid being found. I mean, I don’t want you to find out what they do down here to murderers.”

Richard stopped short. “What do you mean, me?”

“Hey, you killed him,” Michael said.

“You hit him, too,” Richard said.

“But I didn’t kill him,” Michael said. “And the whole thing was your idea.”

Richard glowered at his friend. “We’re in this together, dirtbag. It’s your room. Whatever happens to me is going to happen to you. Plain as day.”

“Come on, you two,” Arak called. He was holding open a door to the small hemispherical, windowless structure. The other members of the group were standing to the side and looking back in the divers’ direction.

“Regardless,” Michael whispered nervously, “the point is that the body is hardly hidden. You got to ask Donald if he can think of a better place for it. He might be an ex-officer asshole, but he’s smart.”

“Okay,” Richard said reluctantly.

The two divers quickened their pace and caught up to the others. Arak smiled congenially and then entered the building followed by Suzanne and Perry. As Donald crossed the threshold Richard gave his sleeve a tug. Donald snatched his arm away and glared back at Richard, but kept walking.

“Hey, Commander Fuller!” Richard whispered. “Hold up a second.”

Donald glanced briefly over his shoulder, treated Richard to a contemptuous look, and continued walking. Arak was leading them along a curved, windowless corridor.

“I wanted to apologize about last night,” Richard said, catching up to Donald so that he was walking right behind him.

“For what?” Donald asked scornfully. “Being stupid, being drunk, or allowing yourself to be duped by these people?”

Richard bit his lower lip before responding. “Maybe all three. We were bombed out of our gourds. But that’s not the reason I want to talk to you.”

Donald stopped short. Richard all but collided with him. Michael did bump into Richard.

“What is it, sailor?” Donald demanded in a no-nonsense voice. “Make it on the double. We’ve got an interesting talk ahead of us that I don’t want to miss.”

“Well, it’s just that…” Richard began, but then he stumbled over his words, unsure of how to begin. Contrary to his early braggadocio, he was intimidated by Donald.

“Come on, sailor,” Donald snapped. “Out with it.”

“Michael and I think we better get the hell out of Interterra,” Richard said.

“Oh, that’s very intelligent of you boneheads,” Donald said. “I suppose this sudden epiphany just occurred to you this morning. Well, perhaps I should remind you that we don’t know where the hell we are until Arak decides to tell us. So once we’ve learned that, maybe we can talk again.” Donald made a motion to leave. Richard grabbed his arm out of desperation. Donald glared down at Richard’s hand. “Let go of me before I lose complete control.”

“But-” Richard said.

“Can it, sailor!” Donald snapped, cutting off the conversation and yanking his arm away from Richard. He walked briskly ahead and ducked through a door at the end of the corridor in pursuit of the others.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him?” Michael demanded in an irritated whisper.

“You didn’t tell him either,” Richard pointed out.

“Yeah, because you said you’d do the talking,” Michael said. He threw up his hands in frustration. “Some talking! My grandmother could have done a better job. Now we’re back where we started. And you’ve got to admit, that body’s not in the world’s best hiding place. What if they find it?”

Richard shuddered. “I hate to think. But it was the best we could do under the circumstances.”

“Maybe we should just stay in the room,” Michael suggested.

“That’s not going to solve anything,” Richard said. “Come on! Let’s at least find out where we are so we can figure out how to get the hell out.”

The two men followed Donald and found themselves in a futuristic, circular room thirty feet in diameter with a domed ceiling. There were no windows. A single row of a dozen molded seats surrounded a dark, slightly convex central area.

Arak and Sufa were sitting directly opposite the entrance, in seats with consoles built into their arms. To Arak and Sufa’s immediate right were two people the divers had never seen before. Although this couple was dressed in the usual white, they were not as attractive as the other Interterrans. Suzanne and Perry were seated to Arak and Sufa’s left. Donald was to the far right, sitting by himself with lots of empty seats between him and the others.

“Please, Richard, Michael,” Arak called out. “Take your seats. Anyplace you’d like. And then we’ll begin.”

Richard made it a point to pass several empty seats to take one next to Donald. Richard nodded to him, but Donald responded by shifting his weight away from the diver. Michael took the seat next to Richard.

“Welcome again to Interterra,” Arak said. “Today we are going to challenge your intellects in a very positive way. And in the process you will soon learn how very lucky you all are.”

“How about starting by telling us when we’ll be heading home?” Richard said.

“Shut the hell up!” Donald growled.

Arak laughed. “Richard, I do appreciate your spontaneity and impulsiveness, but be patient.”

“First we’d like to introduce everyone to two of our distinguished citizens,” Sufa said. “I’m certain you will find talking with them extremely helpful since they, like yourselves, have come from the surface world. May I present Ismael and Mary Black.”

The couple stood for a moment and bowed. Michael clapped from habit but immediately stopped when he realized he was the only one doing so. Suzanne and Perry regarded the couple with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Mary and I would like to extend our welcome as well,” Ismael said. He was a rather tall man with gaunt, hatchetlike features and deeply set eyes. “We are here because we have experienced what you are about to experience, and because of that we may be able to help. As for a general suggestion, I would encourage you at this point not to try to absorb too much too quickly.”

Michael leaned over to Richard and whispered, “Do you think he’s referring to that fabulous hand cream stuff we used last night?”

“Shut up!” Donald snapped, emphasizing each word. “If you men keep interrupting, I want you to move away from me.”

“All right already,” Michael said.

“Thank you, Ismael,” Arak said. Then looking at each of the visitors in turn he added, “I hope you will all take advantage of the Blacks’ offer. We feel that a division of labor will be helpful. Sufa and I will be available for informational issues whereas adjustment issues will be best handled by Ismael and Mary.”

Suzanne leaned over to Perry. There was a new look of concern on her face. “What does he mean, ‘adjustment issues’? How long do you think they intend to keep us here?”

“I don’t know,” Perry whispered back. He’d been struck by the same implication.

“Before we begin I would like to present each of you with a telecommunicator and an eyepiece,” Sufa said. She opened a box that she’d brought to the meeting and lifted out five small parcels, each with a name printed in bold letters across the top. Carrying them in her arms she walked around the room and handed them out to the designated recipients. Richard and Michael tore theirs open like kids attacking Christmas presents. Suzanne and Perry opened theirs with care. Donald let his sit unopened on his lap.

“It’s like a pair of glasses and a wristwatch without a face,” Michael said. He was disappointed. He tried on the glasses. They were aerodynamically shaped with clear lenses.

“It’s a telecommunicator system,” Sufa said. “They are voice activated, and each is mated to your individual voices, so they are not interchangeable. We’ll be showing you how to use them later.”

“What do they do?” Richard asked. He tried the glasses on as well.

“Just about everything,” Sufa said. “They connect with central sources whose information will be displayed virtually through the glasses. They also provide communication with anyone else in Interterra by sight and sound. They even do such mundane things as call air taxis, but more about them later.”

“Let’s get started,” Arak said. He touched the pad on the console in front of him and the darkened convex area turned a phosphorescent blue.

“The first thing we must talk about is the concept of time,” Arak said. “This is perhaps the most difficult subject for people like yourselves to grasp because here in Interterra time is not the immutable construct it appears to be on the earth’s surface. Your scientist, Mr. Einstein, recognized the relativity of time in the sense that it depends on one’s position of observation. Here in Interterra you will confront many examples of such relativity. The simplest, for example, is the age of our civilization. From the perspective of earth surface references, our civilization is incredibly ancient, whereas from our reference point and those of the rest of the solar system, it is not. Your civilization is measured in terms of millennia, ours in millions, and the solar system in billions.”

“Oh, for chrissake,” Richard complained. “Do we have to sit through all this? I thought you were going to tell us where the hell we are.”

“Unless you comprehend the basics,” Arak said, “what I’m going to be telling you will be unbelievable, even meaningless.”

“Why not work backwards,” Richard said. “Tell us where we are and then the other stuff.”

“Richard!” Suzanne snapped. “Be still!”

Richard rolled his eyes for Michael’s benefit. Michael showed his impatience by uncrossing and recrossing his legs.

“Time is not a constant,” Arak continued. “As I said, your clever scientist Mr. Einstein recognized this, but where he made his mistake was thinking that the speed of light was the upper boundary of motion. It is not the case, although it takes a huge quanta of focused energy to break the boundary. A good analogy from everyday life is the extra amount of energy necessary for a phase change that takes a solid to a liquid or a liquid to a gas. Pushing an object beyond the speed of light is like a phase change into a dimension where time is plastic and related only to space.”

“Good grief,” Richard blurted. “Is this a joke?”

Donald stood up and took a seat far from the two divers.

“Try to be patient,” Arak said. “And concentrate on time not being a constant. Think about it! If time is truly relative then it can be controlled, manipulated, and changed. Which brings us to the concept of death. Listen carefully! On the earth’s surface death has been a necessary adjunct of evolution, and evolution the only justification of death. But once evolution has evolved to create a sensate, cognitive being, death is not only not needed, it is a waste.”

At the mention of death Richard and Michael sank lower into their seats. Perry raised his hand. Arak immediately acknowledged him.

“Are we permitted to ask questions?” Perry asked.

“Absolutely,” Arak said agreeably. “This is to be more of a seminar than a lecture. But I ask you only to question what I have already said and not question what you believe I am about to say.”

“You talked about measuring time,” Perry said. “Did you mean to imply that your civilization, as you put it, predates our civilization on the earth’s surface?”

“Indeed,” Arak said. “And by a quantum of time almost incomprehensible to your experience. Our Interterran recorded history goes back almost six hundred million years.”

“Get out of here!” Richard scoffed. “That’s impossible. This is all a bunch of bull crap. That’s older than the dinosaurs.”

“Much older than your dinosaurs,” Arak agreed. “And your disbelief is entirely understandable. That is why we go slowly with this introduction to Interterra. I don’t mean to belabor the point, but it is far easier to adapt to your present reality in stages.”

“That’s all well and good,” Richard announced. “But how about some proof for all this baloney. I’m starting to think this whole setup is an elaborate put-on, and frankly, I’m not interested in sitting here wasting time.”

Neither Donald nor Suzanne complained about Richard’s current interruption. Both were harboring similar thoughts although Suzanne certainly would not have worded her skepticism so rudely. Arak, however, was unfazed.

“All right,” Arak said patiently. “We will provide some proof that you can relate to your civilization’s history. Our civilization has been observing and recording the progress of your second-generation human civilization since the time of your evolution.”

“What do you mean exactly by second-generation human?” Suzanne asked.

“That will be apparent shortly,” Arak said. “First, let’s show you some interesting images. As I said, we have been observing your civilization’s progress, and until about fifty years ago we could do so at will. Since then your increasing technological sophistication has limited our surveillance to avoid detection. In fact, we have stopped using most of our old-fashioned exit ports, like the one used to admit you to Interterra or the one at Barsama, our sister city to the west. Both were ordered to be sealed with magma, but worker clone bureaucratic ineptitude has stalled the execution of the decree.”

“My god, you’re one long-winded dude,” Richard said. “Where’s the proof?”

“The cavern our submersible ended up in?” Suzanne questioned. “Was that what you call an exit port?”

“Exactly,” Arak said.

“Is it normally filled with seawater?” Suzanne asked.

“Correct again,” Arak said.

Suzanne turned to Perry. “No wonder Sea Mount Olympus was never picked up by Geosat. The seamount doesn’t have the mass to be sensed on a gravimeter.”

“Come on!” Richard complained. “Enough stalling. Let’s see the proof!”

“Okay, Richard,” Arak said patiently. “Why don’t you suggest some period in your history that you would care to observe from our reference files. The more ancient the better in order to make my point.”

Richard looked at Michael for help.

“How about gladiators,” Michael said. “Let’s see some Roman gladiators.”

“Gladiatorial combat could be seen,” Arak said reluctantly. “But such violent recordings are under strict censorship. To view them would require special dispensation by the Council of Elders. Perhaps another era would be more suitable.”

“This is goddamn ridiculous!” Richard voiced.

“Try to control yourself, sailor,” Donald snapped.

“Let me understand what you mean,” Suzanne said. “Are you suggesting that you have recordings of all of human history, and you want us to suggest some historical time so we can see some images of it?”

“Precisely,” Arak answered.

“How about the Middle Ages?” Suzanne said.

“That’s a rather large era,” Arak said. “Can you be more specific?”

“Okay,” Suzanne said. “How about fourteenth-century France.”

“That’s during the Hundred Years’ War,” Arak said without enthusiasm. “It’s curious even you, Dr. Newell, request images from such a violent time. But then again, you second-generation humans have had a violent record.”

“Show people at play, not war,” Suzanne said.

Arak touched the keypad on his console and then leaned forward to speak into a small microphone at its center. Almost immediately the room’s illumination dimmed, and the floor screen came alive with blurred images flashing by at an incredible speed. Captivated, everyone leaned over the low wall and watched.

Presently the images slowed, then stopped. The projected scene was crystal clear with natural coloring and perfect holographic three dimensions. It was of a small wheat field in the late summer from an altitude of about four or five hundred feet. A group of people had paused in their harvest activities. Their scythes were haphazardly strewn around several blankets on which a modest meal was spread. The audio was of summer cicadas buzzing intermittently.

“This is not interesting,” Arak said after a quick glance. “It’s not going to be proof of anything. Other than the peoples’ crude garments, there is no indication of the time frame. Let’s let the search recommence.”

Before anyone could respond the screen again blurred as thousands of images flashed by. It was dizzying to watch the rapid flickering, but soon it again slowed and then stopped.

“Ah, this is much better,” Arak exclaimed. Now the view was of a castle erected on a rocky prominence that was hosting a tournament of some kind. The vantage point was significantly higher than the previous scene. The coloration of the vegetation around the castle walls suggested midautumn. The courtyard was packed with boisterous people whose voices formed a muted murmur. Everyone was dressed in colorful medieval attire. Heraldic pennants snapped in the breeze. At either end of a long, low log fence running down the center of the courtyard, two knights were in the final preparations for a joust. Their colorfully caparisoned horses were facing each other, pawing with excitement.

“How are these pictures taken?” Perry asked. He was transfixed by the image.

“It’s a standard recording device,” Arak said.

“I mean from what vantage point?” Perry asked. “Some kind of helicopter?”

Arak and Sufa laughed. “Excuse our giggles,” Arak said. “A helicopter is your technology. Not ours. Besides, such a vehicle would be too intrusive. These images were taken by a small, silent, unmanned antigravity ship hovering at about twenty thousand feet.”

“Hey, Hollywood does this stuff all the time,” Richard said. “Big deal! This is not proof.”

“If this is a set it’s the most realistic one I’ve ever seen,” Suzanne said. She leaned closer. As far as she was concerned the detail was far more than Hollywood was capable of.

As they watched, the attendant pages of the armored knights stepped back, and the men-at-arms lowered their lances. With a crisp fanfare sounding, the two horses charged forward on opposites sides of the log fence. As they bore down on each other the cheering of the crowd mushroomed. Then, just before the horsemen made contact, the screen went blank. A moment later it reverted back to its initial phosphorescent blue. A message window popped up and said: “Scene censored. Apply to Council of Elders.”

“Damn!” Michael voiced. “I was getting into it. Who the hell won: the guy in green or the guy in red?”

“Richard’s right,” Donald said suddenly, ignoring Michael. “These scenes can be staged too easily.”

“Perhaps,” Arak said without taking the slightest offense. “But I can show you whatever you want. We wouldn’t be able to stage the full complement of first-generation history subject to your on-the-spot whim.”

“How about something more ancient?” Perry suggested. “How about Neolithic times in the same location where the castle was.”

“Clever idea!” Arak said. “I’ll plug in the coordinates without a specific time other than, say, prior to ten thousand years ago, and let the search engine see if there is an image in storage.”

The screen again came to life. Once again images flashed by. This time the flashing continued much longer.

Suzanne touched Perry’s arm. She leaned toward him when he turned to her. “I think we’re looking at real images,” she said.

“I do, too,” Perry said. “Can you imagine the technology involved!”

“I’m thinking less about the technology than the fact that this place is real,” Suzanne whispered. “We’re not dreaming all this.”

“Ah!” Arak commented. “I can tell the search has found something. And the time frame will be in the twenty-five-thousand-year range.” As he spoke, the images slowed and again stopped.

The scene was the same rocky prominence although there was no castle. Instead the crown of the hill was dominated by a short escarpment undercut in the center to form a shallow cave. Grouped around the entrance to the cave was an assemblage of Neanderthals clothed in fur and working on crude implements.

“It does look like the same place,” Perry commented.

As everyone watched, the image telescoped in on the domestic scene.

“And the pictures are clearer,” Perry added.

“At that time we didn’t worry about our ships being seen,” Arak explained, “so we felt comfortable dropping down to a mere hundred feet or so to study behavior.”

As they watched, one of the Neanderthal men straightened up from scraping a hide. In the process of stretching he happened to look straight up. When he did, his brutish face suddenly went blank, and his mouth dropped open in a mixture of surprise and terror. The image on the screen was close enough and clear enough to reveal his large square teeth.

“Well,” Arak commented, “here’s an example of our antigravity drone being seen. The poor devil probably thinks he’s being visited by the gods.”

“My gosh,” Suzanne said. “He’s trying to get the others to look up!”

“Their language was very limited,” Arak said. “But I know that there was another subspecies in this same time frame and in the same general area that you called the Cro-Magnon. Their language skills were far better.”

The Neanderthal grunted and leaped up and down while pointing toward the camera. Soon the entire group was looking skyward. Several of the women with young children immediately scooped their babies into their arms and disappeared into the cave while others dashed out.

One enterprising man bent down, picked up an egg-sized stone, and hurled it skyward. The missile approached, then went out of sight to the side.

“Not a bad arm,” Michael said. “The Red Sox could use him out in center field.”

Arak touched his console and the image faded. At the same time the lights went up in the room. Everyone moved back in their seats. Arak and Sufa looked around the room. The visitors were all quiet for the moment, even Richard.

“What was the supposed date of that recording?” Perry asked finally.

Arak consulted his console. “In your calendar it would have been July fourteenth, twenty-three three forty-twoB.C.”

“Didn’t it bother you people that your camera platform was seen?” Suzanne asked. The image of the Neanderthal’s face was haunting her.

“We were starting to be concerned about detection,” Arak agreed. “There was even some talk among our conservative wing at the time to eliminate cognitive beings from the surface of the earth.”

“Why would you be concerned about such primitive people?” Perry asked.

“Purely to avoid detection,” Arak said. “Obviously twenty-five thousand years ago, due to the primitivism of your civilization, it didn’t matter. But we knew it would, eventually. We know that our ships have been sighted occasionally even in your modern times, and it does concern us. Thankfully the sightings have mostly been greeted with disbelief, or if not with disbelief then with the idea that our interplanetary ships have come from someplace else in the universe, not from within the earth itself.”

“Wait a second,” Donald said suddenly. “I don’t like to rain on anyone’s parade, but I don’t think this little show you’re putting on here proves anything at all. It would be too easy to pull this off with computer-generated images. Why don’t you cut all this gibberish, and just tell us who you represent and what you want from us.”

For a moment no one spoke. Arak and Sufa leaned over and consulted with one another sotto voce. Then they conferred with Ismael and Mary. After a short, hushed conference, the hosts repositioned themselves back in their chairs. Arak looked directly at Donald.

“Mr. Fuller, your skepticism is fully understandable,” Arak said. “We’re not sure everyone else shares your suspicions. Perhaps later they can influence your opinion. Of course there will be more proof as your introduction proceeds, and I’m confident that you will be won over. Meanwhile, we’d like to beg for your patience for a while longer.”

Donald did not respond. He merely glared back at Arak.

“Let’s move on,” Arak said. “And allow me to give you a capsule history of Interterra. To do that we must begin in your domain, the earth’s surface. Life there began about five hundred million years after the earth formed and took several billion years to evolve. Your earth scientists are well aware of this. What they are not aware of is that we, the first-generation humans, evolved about five hundred and fifty million years ago during evolution’s first phase. The reason your scientists are unaware of this first phase is because almost the entire fossilized record of it disappeared during a time we call the Dark Period. More about that later. First we have some images of these early times of our civilization, but the quality is not good.”

The light dimmed progressively. In the gathering darkness Suzanne and Perry exchanged glances, but didn’t speak. Their attention was soon directed at the floor screen. After another flickering interval a scene appeared taken at eye level, depicting an environment similar to the one the visitors had seen in Interterra. The main difference was that the buildings were white instead of black although the shapes were similar. And the people appeared like normal human beings-they weren’t all gorgeous and they were engaged in a variety of everyday tasks.

“Watching these scenes makes us smile at our own primitiveness,” Sufa said.

“Indeed,” Arak agreed. “We didn’t have worker clones at that ancient time.”

Suzanne cleared her throat. She was trying to sort through everything Arak was saying. As an earth scientist, his lecture collided with everything she knew about evolution in general and human evolution in particular. “Are you suggesting that these images we’re seeing are from five hundred and fifty million years ago?”

“That’s correct,” Arak answered. He suppressed a laugh. He and Sufa were apparently amused by the antics of an individual trying to lift a block of stone. “Excuse us from finding this so funny,” he said. “We haven’t seen any of these sequences for a very long time. It was back when we had something akin to your nationalities, although they disappeared after the first fifty thousand years of our history. Wars disappeared at the same time, as you might imagine. As you can see, the surface of the earth was very different from the way it is now, and it is that appearance that we have re-created here in Interterra. Back then there was just one supercontinent and one superocean.”

“What happened?” Suzanne asked. “Why did your civilization choose to go underground?”

“Because of the Dark Period,” Arak said. “Our civilization had almost a million years of peaceful progress until we became aware of ominous developments in a galaxy close to ours. Within a relatively short time a series of cataclysmic supernova explosions occurred, effectively showering earth with enough radiation to dissipate the ozone layer. We could have dealt with that, but our scientists also recognized that these galactic events also upset the delicate balance of the solar system’s asteroid population. It became evident the earth was to be showered with planetesimal collisions, just as had happened when it was in its primordial state.”

“For crying out loud!” Richard moaned. “I can’t take much more of this.”

“Quiet, Richard!” Suzanne snapped without taking her eyes off Arak. “So Interterra was driven underground.”

“Exactly,” Arak said. “We knew the surface of the earth would become uninhabitable. It was a desperate time. We searched the solar system for a new home without success, and had not yet developed the time technology to search other galaxies. Then it was suggested that our only chance for survival was to move underground, or actually under the ocean. We had the technology so we did it in a miraculously short time. And very soon after we moved, the world as we knew it was consumed in deadly radiation, asteroidal bombardment, and geological upheaval. It was a close call even under the protective layer of the ocean, because at one point the ocean came close to boiling away from the intense heat. All life forms on earth were destroyed except for some primitive bacteria, some viruses, and a bit of blue-green algae.”

Suddenly the screen went blank and the illumination in the room returned.

Everyone was quiet.

“Well, there you have it,” Arak said. “A concentrated capsule of Interterran history and scientific fact. Now, I’m sure you’ll have questions.”

“How long did the Dark Period last?” Suzanne asked.

“A little more than twenty-five thousand years,” Arak answered.

Suzanne shook her head in amazement and disbelief, yet it all made a certain amount of scientific sense. And most important, it explained the reality she presently found herself in.

“But you stayed under the ocean,” Perry said. “Why didn’t your people return to the earth’s surface?”

“For two main reasons,” Arak said. “First, we had everything we needed and we’d become accustomed to our environment. And second, when surface life evolved anew, the bacteria and viruses that developed were organisms to which we had never been exposed. In other words, by the time the climate would have permitted our reemergence, the biosphere was antigenically inimical to us. Perhaps deadly is a better word, unless we were willing to go through a strenuous adaptation. And so here we remain, very happy and content especially since here under the ocean we are not at the whim of nature. Of all the universe we have visited thus far, this small planet is the best suited to the human organism.”

“Now I understand why we had to go through such a strenuous decontamination,” Suzanne said. “We had to be microorganism-free.”

“Exactly,” Arak said. “And at the same time you had to be adapted to our organisms.”

“In other words,” Suzanne continued, “evolution occurred twice on earth with essentially the same outcome.”

“Almost the same outcome,” Arak said. “There were some differences in certain species. At first we were surprised about this, but then it made sense in that the original DNA is the same. Multicellular life evolved from the same blue-green algae in both instances and with approximately the same climatic conditions.”

“Which is why you refer to yourselves as first-generation humans,” Suzanne said, “and to us as second-generation humans.”

Arak smiled with satisfaction. “We counted on your understanding all this as rapidly as you have, Dr. Newell,” he said.

Suzanne turned to Perry and Donald. “Scientific studies confirm some of this,” she said. “Both geological and oceanographic evidence suggest there was an ancient single continent on earth, called Pangaea.”

“Excuse me,” Arak said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but that’s not the same as our original continent. Pangaea formed de novo during the latter part of the Dark Period geological upheavals. Our continent suffered complete subduction into the asthenosphere prior to that.”

Suzanne nodded. “Very interesting,” she said. “And that must be the reason the fossil record of the first evolution is not available.”

Arak smiled contentedly again. “Your grasp of these basic fundamentals is heartening indeed, Dr. Newell. But we had anticipated as much even before your arrival.”

“Before I arrived?” Suzanne questioned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Arak added quickly. “Nothing at all. Perhaps we should remind your colleagues that it was the breakup of Pangaea that formed the present continental configuration.”

“That’s true,” Suzanne agreed while she eyed Arak searchingly. She had the uncomfortable sense that there was something Arak was not telling her. She looked over at Donald and Perry and wondered how much even they were taking in. Arak’s presentation was clearly beyond Richard and Michael. They looked like bored schoolkids.

“Well, then,” Arak said, marshaling some enthusiasm by rubbing his hands together. “I can only imagine how all this information affects you people. Having one’s preconceived and accepted notions dashed is a daunting experience. That’s why we have been insisting on going slowly with your introduction to our world. I’d venture to guess that you’ve already had enough talk, too much perhaps. At this point I think it would be better to show you some of the ways we live, firsthand.”

“You mean go out into the city?” Richard asked.

“If that will be agreeable to everyone?” Arak said.

“Count me in,” Richard said eagerly.

“Me, too,” Michael echoed.

“What about the rest of you?” Arak asked.

“I’ll go,” Suzanne said.

“Of course I’ll go,” Perry said when Arak looked at him.

When it was Donald’s turn he merely nodded.

“Wonderful,” Arak said. He stood. “Now if you’ll give Sufa and me a few minutes by remaining in your seats, we’ll make the arrangements.” He extended a hand toward Sufa, and she rose as well. Together they exited the small conference room.

Perry shook his head. “I feel shell-shocked. This whole situation keeps getting more and more unbelievable.”

“I’m not sure I believe anything,” Donald said.

“Ironically enough, it seems to me to be too fantastic not to be true,” Suzanne said. “And it all makes a certain amount of scientific sense.” She looked over at Ismael and Mary Black, who had been sitting patiently. “Please, folks, tell us your story. Is it true you are from the surface world?”

“Yes, it is,” Ismael said.

“From where?” Perry asked.

“From Gloucester, Massachusetts,” Mary said.

“No kidding,” Michael said. He sat up. “Hey, I’m from Massachusetts, too: Chelsea. Ever been there?”

“I’ve heard of it,” Ismael said. “But I’ve never been there.”

“Everybody from the North Shore has been to Chelsea,” Michael said with a snicker. “Because one end of the Tobin Bridge sits on it.”

“I’ve never heard of the Tobin Bridge,” Ismael said. Michael’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“How’d you two end up down here in Interterra?” Richard questioned.

“We were very lucky,” Mary said. “Very lucky indeed. Just like you people.”

“Were you diving?” Perry asked.

“No,” Ismael said. “We ran into a terrible storm en route from the Azores to America. We should have drowned like the others on our ship. But, as Mary said, we were lucky, and we were inadvertently rescued by an Interterran interplanetary vehicle. We literally got sucked into the same exit port you people did and were then revived by the Interterrans.”

“What was the name of your ship?” Donald asked.

“It was called the Tempest,” Ismael said, “which turned out to be rather appropriate considering the fate. It was a schooner out of Gloucester.”

“A schooner?” Donald questioned suspiciously. “What year did this happen?”

“Let’s see,” Mary said, “I was sixteen. That makes it eighteen hundred and one.”

“Oh, for chrissake,” Donald muttered. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his bald head. He’d shaved it that morning. “And you people wonder why I’m skeptical?”

“Mary, that’s about two hundred years ago,” Suzanne said.

“I know,” Mary said. “It’s hard to believe, but isn’t it wonderful? Look how young we look.”

“You expect us to believe that you are over two hundred years old?” Perry questioned.

“It’s going to take time for you to comprehend the world that you are now in,” Mary said. “All I can say is that you should try to avoid making any hardened opinions until you’ve seen and heard more. We can remember how we felt when we were being subjected to the same information. And remember, for us it was even more astounding since your technology has come a long way in the last two hundred years.”

“I second Mary’s advice,” Ismael said. “Try to keep in mind what Arak said at the beginning of the session. Time has a different meaning here in Interterra. In fact, Interterrans don’t die the way they do on the surface.”

“My ass they don’t die,” Michael whispered.

“Shut up,” Richard whispered back through clenched teeth.